


Nothing Compares 2 U

by blinking_post



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, GTopRi, Getting Together, I Don't Even Know, M/M, M/M/M, OT3, Other, Romance, What Was I Thinking?, oblivious GD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 04:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6408043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinking_post/pseuds/blinking_post
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Seunghyun and Seungri.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He never could choose between the two of them so he just… didn’t.  He let it drag on and on until well… nothing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>No, not nothing.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He never could choose between them but he never imagined they would choose each other.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Compares 2 U

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this mainly because I wanted to write, "He never could choose between them but he never imagined they would choose each other." Mainly it. This was... frustrating to write. I don't think I will write gtopri again.
> 
> I applaud people who can write polyamory. It's hard and frustrating to write especially since I don't have a firm understanding of polyamorous relationship dynamics, especially in relationship wherein all parties are equally together rather than having just a primary partner with secondary partners on the side. Hmmm...
> 
> Also, I just imagine GD listening to Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U" the entire time. Hence the title XD You can listen to the song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB1TKw8_b1s)

\----

 

He never could choose between them.

 

Seunghyun is well… he’s Seunghyun.  Sometimes Jiyong thinks he’s been in love with Seunghyun since they were in middle school.  Seunghyun has a calming effect on him, makes him feel at peace.  Like all the crazy in the world buzzing around them is okay if he can just end the day with the two of them together on Seunghyun’s patio sharing a smoke between the two of them, the ashes sprinkling from the end of the cigarette when he passes it on to Seunghyun and when Seunghyun passes it back falling into the space below them until it comes nothing.

 

Sometimes he thought it had to be Seunghyun.  That it had always been Seunghyun since he was twelve and Seunghyun was thirteen and chubby and endlessly captivating because Jiyong never could quite figure him out.

 

It was there.  Right _there_.  This _thing_  with Seunghyun was right there waiting with Seunghyun for Jiyong to just reach out and grasp with his hands.  To finally take the plunge and just make up his Goddamn mind already.  Just when he had decided it was Seunghyun, that it had always been Seunghyun since the very beginning, well...

 

He would hear Seungri laugh.  Cackle, really, and suddenly Jiyong was back at square one.  Because this was Seungri.  Seungri with his too big personality and too infectious smiles.  Seungri with his too loud laughter and the way he always fell to the ground when one of his hyungs had sufficiently knocked him off his feet with funny words.  This was Seungri, the one who lived, still lives, to please his fans but was, and still very much is, incredibly selfish.  This was Seungri, the one who wanted it all and wasn’t going to stop until he got everything he wanted.

 

This is Seungri, the one who still makes him want to reach out and ruffle his hair and squeeze his cheeks and pull him in and say, “I’ve got you.  I will never let you down.”

 

Sometimes he thought it was Seungri.  Had to be.  The one.  Just because he loved Seunghyun longer didn’t mean he loved Seunghyun more.  So decision made.  He told himself he meant it each and every time he chose Seungri and just when he was about to finally do it, finally touch Seungri and make him his, Seunghyun would do something incredibly stupid like trap Seungri under him when the younger of the two was lying on his stomach in the middle of the living room floor reading one of his self-help books about confidence or success or other.  It’s endearing the way they squabble, Seungri crying out in exaggerated pain and calling out to Jiyong for help, Seunghyun laughing and inviting Jiyong over to join him.

 

Maybe that was the problem.  He never could choose because the three of them were together all the time.  Sleeping.  Eating. Drinking.  Partying.  Composing songs.  Writing lyrics.  Short of showering and fucking there was barely anything he did without the other two present.

 

So.

 

Seunghyun.

 

Seungri.

 

Seunghyun and Seungri.

 

He never could choose between the two of them so he just… didn’t.  He let it drag on and on until well… nothing.

 

No, not nothing.

 

He never could choose between them but he never imagined they would choose each other.  Never even saw it coming.

 

It’s been five years and the memory is still seared into his mind, hot and burning, itching like a scar that refuses to fade no matter how much time has passed.  He remembers walking in on the two of them, seconds away from announcing his presence but they didn’t notice him at all.  The apartment was quiet, the hallway barely lit from the light coming in from the living room.  Youngbae had gone home for the weekend, Daesung who knows where. He himself had planned a much, much later night out with his friends but a pounding headache had sent him back home earlier than he had originally thought.

 

He remembers all breath being sucked right out of him and standing there frozen at the edge, watching Seunghyun push into Seungri one, slow, agonizing thrust at a time.  Seungri was on his back, bare against the leather couch, thighs spread wide and encasing Seunghyun on either side, the older of the two on his knees between said thighs, kneeling and keeping Seungri’s hips canted up with large hands, fingers splayed out, gripping and holding on as he pushes all sanity out of Seungri who was gasping with each thrust and Seunghyun, he was groaning like being inside Seungri was the only thing he ever wanted.  If it had just been sex maybe he could have been okay with that.  Maybe.  Sex is easy.  Love is hard.

 

And it was.  Love.  It was love.  It’s still love now.  God, they still love each other so much.  He sees it in the way they touch, in the way they look at each other, in the way they understand each other so well with nothing but a look or a touch or a quirk of an eyebrow and it’s fucking tearing him apart.

 

They didn’t see him that night because they were more wrapped up in each other than their surroundings.  A meteorite could have struck and they wouldn’t have noticed.  Seunghyun was looking down at Seungri with so much affection and Seungri was leering up at Seunghyun through slits for eyes, the smile spread across his face emanating so much joy and happiness.  And then the kiss in the middle of all that.  Gentle.  Easy.  Intimate.  They’d done this more than once.  A lot more than once if the familiarity between them was anything to go by.

 

He had snuck back out as quietly as possible but he doubted they would have heard either way.  When the door finally locked behind him, he crumbled along it, sliding down, back and shirt grazing against the wood and, mostly sitting down, both of his hands ran through his hair, stopping midway to grip at roots as he tried to re-center himself.  He couldn’t get the image out of his head then.  Even now, when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all he can see. Like the image is permanently burned onto the back of his lids.  Sometimes when he’s feeling especially weak he’ll touch himself to the memory and bite back the moans that threaten to spill over, swallowing them all down and hating himself for it.

 

The day after he started to pull away from them both.  Burned raw and vulnerable, fueled by his anger and wanting to lash out, to act tough like they hadn’t dealt him a blow big enough to leave a gaping hole in his chest, he turned a blind eye to how he himself had hurt them in return.  If they wanted to be together, fine.  What did he care?  There were six billion people in the world so what did two less opportunities matter to him anyhow?

 

For weeks he spent less and less time with them, cut them out of his life essentially, even when they kept trying to rope him into all the trouble they always seemed to find.  Or trouble that always seemed to find them in return.  He went out and he partied and he got drunk and he fucked a string of men and women, brought their scent home with him as he stumbled into their apartment.  Seunghyun and Seungri were always there waiting for him, always there to help support him as he toed off his shoes, as he tripped his way to his bed before throwing himself on it.  They always tucked him in, made sure he was on his side.  They always left him water and pills on the side of his bed for the morning, and it always made him feel like shit, like all he wanted to do right then was cry and let it all out, role of leader be damned.

 

Even then they wouldn’t give him the space he wanted.   _Needed_ , really.  And he really needed that space because truth of the matter was underneath the bravado all there was was pain and heartache and regret, mentally kicking himself over and over and over again because if he could have just chosen one of them, either of them, didn’t matter which, he wouldn’t have ended up on that rooftop crying, bottle of whiskey in one hand, cigarette in another.  Youngbae had been the one to find him, had been the one to throw an arm around his shoulder and given him a reassuring squeeze before chugging down some whiskey of his own.

 

They kept clinging on to him even when they had each other, Seunghyun constantly throwing an arm around his shoulder when they were walking, Seungri holding his hand on the other side and eventually he gave up.  Seungri and Seunghyun.  They always did do whatever the hell they wanted and he was never going to win.  They make quite the trio, the three of them.  Youngbae and Daesung had given them these looks sometimes, like they were trying to figure it out.  Youngbae asked him once and he had shrugged, saying he didn’t have a fucking clue either.

 

He wrote songs for them, whether they knew it or not he never knew.  Was always too cowardly to ask.  Heartache always did do wonders for him.  Lies.  Haru Haru.  From before them.  For the first.  For the both of them it seemed one song after another.  Angry at first.   _Crooked.  Stupid Liar.  Who You?_  And then something in between.  Contemplative, maybe.   _Love Dust.  Miss You.  Love Song._  Finally, there was nothing left but sorrow.   _Without You (Finally).  Blue.  Black._  Like bruises.  Some songs he gave to the group.  Some songs he kept for himself.  To himself.  Until he felt he was okay enough to release it on his own.

 

Youngbae still tells him he should leave, should quit the both of them altogether.  Jiyong would if he could.

 

He has tried a few times but in the end nothing.  He comes crawling back to them each and every time and they hold him and they drink with him and they watch a stupid movie and they make him laugh and it all feels warm and right and by the end of the night he forgets he’s supposed to be heartbroken over someone not named Seunghyun.

 

No one but Seungri and Seunghyun ever meant anything.

 

Except Kiko.  Kiko was special.  But eventually she left too. Bad boy, she had called him.  And she was a good girl.  Always had been.  She left with nothing but a kiss and a few words - I never really had you - whispered against his neck to remember her by.

 

She was special.  She really was.  She was charming and beautiful and smart and captivating and she understood him in ways only Seungri and Seunghyun ever managed, but in the end she realized what she was.  A shade of Seungri.  A shade of Seunghyun.  And maybe he didn’t love her the way she deserved but he did love her.  Just probably not enough.  And not in the way he loves Seunghyun and Seungri.  That’s probably what mattered to her the most.

 

Still, he is heartbroken all the same.  So he goes over to Seunghyun’s condo with bottles of whiskey and a movie, he can’t even remember which one, ready for another night of sitting between Seunghyun and Seungri, arms brushing, sending electricity up his arm and down his spine. Maybe he’ll cry a little too because this was Kiko after all and if he couldn’t make it with her then he was probably never going to make it with anyone else.

 

It’s not the welcome he thought he would have.  Seunghyun opens the door for him with a smile and warm eyes but Seungri is all fire and glares and like he’s at his wit’s end.  Maybe that’s what drives him to drink more than he should.

 

He’s in the middle of spewing words about Kiko, about how beautiful she was and how she was perfect for him and he couldn’t make it work.  He wanted it to work so much and he couldn’t make it work, and he looks at both Seunghyun and Seungri and he asks them why, he asks them what was wrong with him, and that’s when Seungri stops him mid-sentence, looks at Seunghyun and says, “I can’t do this anymore,” before he gets up, leaves him sitting there with wide eyes, both him and Seunghyun watch him go.  The next second Seunghyun’s chasing after him and Jiyong’s left on the couch with tears in his eyes wondering how he’d fucked up this time.

 

He stumbles after them, dizzy and disoriented, hands along the wall to steady himself when his ears catch Seungri’s words.

 

“I can’t.  I can’t do this anymore.  He always comes back to us,” Seungri says, hushed, whispered.

 

Seunghyun presses their foreheads together, fingers in Seungri’s hair.  “It’s gotta be his choice.”

 

“He loves _us_.  No one else.  It’s always been you and me and I can’t just watch him beat himself up anymore over people who don’t deserve him to begin with, okay?”

 

He loves us, Seungri had said.  Fuck.  They know.  They’ve known all along how hung up on them he still is.  They must have thought him so foolish to keep hanging on, to cling to that sliver of hope buried deep in his chest, the one he still denies carrying.  They must have laughed amongst themselves when he went home or passed out on their couch or something because why wouldn’t they?  They have each other and he has no one, and he keeps chasing after all these different people, keeps chasing after something he’ll never have with anyone except with them.

 

He sucks in a breath, hurt, the ache in his chest blooming until it takes over everything, until he feels nothing but numb and pain, knees buckling underneath him as he tumbles to the ground.  Seungri and Seunghyun hear him.  Both their heads jerk his way, Seunghyun’s eyes a war of emotions but Seungri’s is only filled with one thing: determination.

 

Seungri stalks towards him, leaves Seunghyun behind to watch, stands above him for a moment and everything is too much.  He can hardly breathe much less think because everything is falling apart beneath him.  And then Seungri brushes his bangs away from his eyes, tilts his head up with a finger on his chin until their eyes lock, and then he says, “ _I_ love you.   _We_ love you,” before consuming him with a kiss.  Like everything Seungri it’s all too much.  Too forceful.  Too rough.  Filled with too much want and desire and too much of the everything he had been looking for in countless men and women.  Too much love.  It ensnares him like it always had before.  Somewhere hidden deep inside he had always held out hope for this.  Too soon Seungri breaks away, says with conviction, “there is absolutely _nothing_  wrong with you.”  

 

He leaves Jiyong a broken mess of jumbled emotions on the floor and he hears the front door slam as he stares at Seunghyun with wide eyes and Seunghyun stares back at him with kind ones.  And then a sigh.  A few steps with his long legs and next thing he knows Seunghyun is squatting in front of him and cupping a cheek in one of those large hands of his, warm and inviting.  He can’t help but lean into it.

 

“Jiyong-ah,” he starts off, gentle.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

Tears are trapped in his throat, choking all his words, keeping them bottled up before they can leave his mouth.  How does Seunghyun know?  He has no fucking clue what is going on, can barely keep up with how fast everything is spinning but he’s starting to feel like it’s his fault, like he’d done something wrong because Seungri just kissed him in front of his boyfriend.

 

He forces out, “I don’t want to ruin anything you guys have.  You two are amazing together.”

 

Seunghyun smiles at him and brushes a thumb along his cheekbone.  “Idiot,” he says affectionately.  “You could never ruin anything.”  And then he kisses Jiyong too.  Leans in slowly to do so.  The kiss is soft, gentle, all contained emotions and affection and love, barely a brush of lips against lips in comparison to Seungri but it makes him feel exactly the same.  It consumes him.  Makes him want more, makes him feel like his chest is about to burst.

 

When Seunghyun breaks away, he whispers against Jiyong’s lips, “I love you.  Seungri loves you.  We’ve pretty much been waiting on you this whole time.”

 

That’s what fucking breaks him, has him crumbling until he’s hiding his face between his knees.  He can’t.  He’s too damn drunk to deal with this right now, too drunk to think straight because it sounds like he’s being offered something he thought he would never have.  Seunghyun settles down next to him, both their backs pressed along the wall in Seunghyun’s hallway with a warm arm thrown around his shoulder, fingers in his hair soothing him little by little as it massages his scalp.  He doesn’t remember falling asleep but he remembers Seungri’s bleary face looking down at him with concern as Seungri… or Seunghyun, could be Seunghyun too, fixes a blanket on top of him and then he’s out again.

 

He opens his eyes to a glass of water and two aspirin on the dresser and downs them without second thought.  And then he remembers the night before, knows it’s not a dream, and there’s something like hope niggling in his chest.  Maybe, he thinks, he never really had to choose to begin with.  They never asked him to and maybe that meant he wasn’t supposed to choose.

 

He wanders into the kitchen with light footsteps, tentative, wondering if anyone else is awake and is not surprised to see Seungri at the stove, Seunghyun at the table with his phone in hand, probably trolling fangirls on Instagram again.  He stands there frozen for a moment, scared, wonders if maybe he should make for an escape but then rethinks it because he wants this.  He has always wanted this and if what he remembers is correct, and by God he hopes it is, they want him too.  They’ve been waiting for him this whole time.

 

Seungri is the first to see him, ladle in one hand, frilly pink apron worn on top of his clothes.  Probably a joke started by Seunghyun with Seungri playing along, humoring his boyfriend.  It makes Seungri look both ridiculous and adorable at the same time but it suits him.  Not surprising actually.

 

His skin prickles when both pairs of eyes are on him but he takes the plunge.  He clears his throat.  “I was thinking maybe, if you guys want to, that maybe, I don’t know.  We could go on a date.  Or something.”

 

“A date,” Seunghyun says, enunciating each word, brow raised.

 

Jiyong keeps his head held high.  He’s not going to back down anymore.  No more being passive and waiting for things to happen.  That’s what had happened before.  He couldn’t choose between them so he was waiting for someone or something to make the decision for him.  But now he doesn’t have to choose between them at all.  Now he has to choose between whether he will pursue this or not, and he’s going to.  They’re the only thing he’s ever wanted more than making music.  They’re the only people he’s ever truly loved with all-consuming emotions and his entire being and he’ll be damned if he lets it slip away again.

 

Seungri’s face stretches into a too wide grin, all his emotions written clearly on his face.  Joy.  Happiness.  Love.  And somewhere in his eyes, something that looks like _fucking finally._   Yeah.  Fucking finally indeed.  Seunghyun breaks into a grin too, that childishly happy one he wears when he’s overwhelmed with glee and can’t control it.  Like a cat that caught the canary.

 

“New York?” Seungri suggests.

 

Seunghyun shrugs.  “Why not?”

 

New York is fucking amazing.

 

Seunghyun takes them to the Museum of Modern Arts on a weekday, early in the morning when the doors have just opened and there’s hardly anyone there.  He trails behind them, watch their comfortable banter back and forth, their shoulders brushing and he wonders if he really belongs.  Before he can think too much on it they turn around to face him, something akin to exasperation in the quirk of Seungri’s eyes, and then he offers his hand for Jiyong to take, threads their fingers together when he does, tugs him forward so that that the three of them are side by side.  Seunghyun throws an arm around his shoulder and he feels his fingertips play with the hair on the back of Seungri’s neck.

 

Seungri takes them clubbing.  He pulls Jiyong to the dance floor, their hips flushed, and he grins into Jiyong’s neck, yells into his ear, “Top-hyung never ever dances with me!” before brushing a kiss behind the back of Jiyong’s ear, sending shivers down his spine before he feels a strong body behind him.  Seunghyun places his hands on Jiyong’s hips and keeps them there.  The grin that breaks out on Seungri’s face when he looks up at Seunghyun is dazzling.  This is probably one of the best things about New York.  No one cares.  No one gives a fuck who they are so Seungri gets them both drunk, gets them loose and giggly and brave enough to hide in a dark, secluded corner so that Seunghyun can suck bruises along his neck while Seungri rides in his lap.

 

The actual best thing about New York, during this trip at least, is the bed in their hotel room.

 

“Oh fuck,” he groans out when Seunghyun breaches him for the first time with one long, seemingly never-ending thrust, splitting him wide open, leaving him bare and vulnerable, legs spread wide open to accommodate him.  Stark white sheets are gripped tight in his hands, Seungri to the side of them both, breath ragged as he watches in awe with his dick in one hand, stroking himself to the sight in front of him with long, lazy tugs.  Through the haze their eyes catch and a wrangled cry escapes Seungri’s mouth.

 

He leans down, says, “Fuck, hyung.  You’re so fucking gorgeous,” against his mouth and then he’s being devoured from both ends, Seungri attacking his mouth, thrusting in with his tongue, Seunghyun taking him from below with hard, punishing, unrelenting, desperate thrusts that has him seeing stars.  They take everything he has to offer, give him back just as much.  Seungri’s hand snakes down his chest, down his stomach and past his belly button to wrap around his dick, starts jerking him in time with Seunghyun’s thrusts and it’s too much.  He can’t take it.  He breaks the kiss, starts keening, breath huffing against Seungri’s lips, muscles drawn tight.  He can feel the edge right there, feel himself about teetering over.  Just… just fuck. _Something_.

 

Seunghyun pushes his thighs further apart, drives himself into Jiyong deeper than before.  He leans down, sweat-slicked forehead against the side of Jiyong’s head.  Between thrusts, voice low and deep, a rumble that sends shivers down his spine, he forces out, “We’ve got you,” and Jiyong topples over, vision whiting out, the sound of Seungri’s chuckle and Seunghyun’s groan as he comes inside Jiyong filling his ears.  He watches with bleary eyes, worn out and tired on his side, as Seunghyun sucks Seungri down, swallowing around him as Seungri brushes a thumb lovingly against the corner of his mouth.  “Hyung,” he breathes out, ragged, and Seunghyun smiles around him.  “Fuck.  I love you,” he sighs out before his eyes close and his head falls back, body propped up by a hand behind him, the other in Seunghyun’s hair, breath hitching as he comes down Seunghyun’s throat.

 

In the morning when Seunghyun is still asleep beside them, Jiyong just waking up himself, vision still blurry with sleep in his eyes, Seungri climbs on top of him, gives him a coy look, a hint of smirk in the corners of his mouth, before he sinks down, takes Jiyong down to the hilt in one smooth motion.  He bites his moans into the back of his hand, watches Seungri move above him through the corners of his eyes, the stretch and pull of his muscles visible.  Seunghyun wakes up not too long after when Seungri is about to reach his limit, when he can no longer keep things slow and controlled and starts haphazardly fucking himself onto Jiyong with abandon.  Seunghyun jerks his hand away, covers Jiyong’s mouth with his, and Jiyong cries his release into the hot, wet heat of Seunghyun’s mouth.

 

He can’t contain how enamored with both Seunghyuns he actually is now that he doesn’t have to hide it from them anymore or play it off as a joke, and his affection runs rampant during their fan meetings.  The touches.  The looks.  The teasing.  He can’t help it.  It’s written so clearly on his face.

 

Seunghyun: Do you have a girlfriend?

 

No shock that Seungri passes there.  The lie detector stays silent and everyone’s laughing, Seungri bright and cheerful, triumphant and boisterous about it towards the camera for the fans.  Seungri says, “You know I don’t have one!”

 

He chirps in, “Two!” And and holds up two fingers, Youngbae joining in right along with him, both insinuating that perhaps Seungri doesn’t have one but TWO girlfriends.

 

Then Seunghyun again: Do you have a boyfriend?

 

The fans chant, “GD!  GD!  GD!” and Seungri happily nods along.

 

Seungri: Yes!  Yes!  I have one!

 

Well, that’s not technically a lie either.  The fangirls go wild when the lie detector keeps silent and withholds from shocking Seungri.

 

Youngbae and Daesung judge the three of them the entire time.  Every time.  Every fan meeting.  They step back and observe, watching the three of them interact with discerning eyes, judging all the while but they get in some ribbing of their own to balance out the dynamics in hopes of masking how obviously in love the three of them are with each other.  Jiyong briefly wonders if it’s working.

 

Maybe he should control himself better, set the example for both Seunghyun and Seungri but again, he can’t help it.  They make him stupid.

 

And well, he’s never been so fucking happy.

 

\----

**Author's Note:**

> I think a story from Seungri's and TOP's POV would be a very interesting addition to the fic, especially since the whole time GD was missing the fact that they were always there for him and basically just waiting for him to be ready for them. I don't know, what do you guys think? Honestly, I just want someone else to write gtopri for me LOL.
> 
> Anyhow, as always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated.


End file.
